


Sleepless

by keelys



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-25 19:30:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4973356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keelys/pseuds/keelys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s been happening more and more often these past few weeks. You fall asleep on the couch in the library, or even on a chair at the table, or anywhere, as long as it’s close to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleepless

It’s been happening more and more often these past few weeks. You fall asleep on the couch in the library, or even on a chair at the table, or anywhere, as long as it’s close to him. You don’t really sleep to tell the truth, but it doesn’t matter, you can hear him breathe. He’s been noticing, giving you those looks, like he’s pitying you. You don’t really care.

“Dean, go to bed, you look exhausted.”

“Shut up.”

“You’re not any good if you’re dead on your feet. Get some shuteye, I’ll finish up.”

He looks at you, and he dares you to say no, to say anything at all. Resigned, you stand up, go to your room. You’re exhausted, but it’s another sleepless night for you. And you can’t breathe, and your head feels like it’s gonna explode. Another panic attack. You’re so weak. Pathetic. How can he stand you? You’re drenched in cold sweat, and you go take a shower. Wait for it to get cold (it doesn’t get cold).

“What are you doing? It’s the middle of the night.”

“Nothing. Can’t sleep. Leave me alone.”

“Whatever, Dean.”

You don’t know how to talk to him anymore. You can see it in his eyes sometimes, how betrayed by you he feels, how wary of your reactions he has become. You don’t think it’s fair.

 

Some days are better than others. Usually when you’re on a hunt. Close quarters. Sometimes you sleep in the car, just because. For old days’ sake. The two of you sharing the same air, barely twenty inches between you. These nights, you’re able to sleep. You wake up to the sound of his breathing, to the smell of his sweat. You wouldn’t want to have it any other way.

Sometimes you talk before you sleep. Almost like before. Before everything felt so fucked up. It’s always been fucked up, to be fair, but these days it’s getting worse and worse. But lying down in the Impala, you can pretend, even for a few hours. He’ll tell you about this legend he read about in a book. You’ll chuckle, and pretend to make fun of him.

He’s your world.

He’s always been.

 

Most days you’ll ignore each other. Only talk when needed. Maybe he doesn’t notice. How out of it you are. (He notices.)

 

The other day he fell asleep while reading. You looked at him for what felt like hours. You looked at him like you never can. You almost reached out and touched his hair. You didn’t. It scares you how much you wish you could just melt into him. He woke up, and your hand was hovering over his. He looked up at you, and he really looked at you. You felt naked under his gaze. He smiled at you. Touched your cheek. You froze. You didn’t know how much you wanted him to touch you.

“It’s okay, Dean.”

It’s not okay. It’s far from okay. He was still smiling. You didn’t say a thing, didn’t move a muscle, and eventually he left. (Why didn’t you say something, anything?) So much silence between you. If you don’t say it, then it’s not real.

 

Sam’s always been the brave one. Going after his dreams, as misguided as they were. Standing his ground against Dad. Jumping. (You still dream about it, him jumping, and you sitting there, weak, pathetic.) You’re not brave, you pretend to be. It’s easy to do when you’ve had a lifetime of pretending. (Not when you were in Hell, there was no pretending there, there was just pain and sorrow, and more pain, until you reveled in the pain, in inflicting it, you’re not brave, no, you’ll live forever with that knowledge.)

So really it doesn’t surprise you. He’s the brave one.

“You have to stop looking at me like that.”

“I don’t – I mean...”

“Dean, if you don’t stop, I’ll...”

You don’t say anything. Words fail you these days. You keep your eyes on him, unguarded.

 

He kisses you.

 

“Tell me to stop.”

But you don’t want him to stop. You should. But you never want him to stop. He kisses you again and you’ve never felt complete before, you never knew. His lips are so shy, and soft, and they wake every nerve in your body. You’re not even touching anywhere else. Just your mouths and it already is too much. You’re not crying. (You are.)

“Dean, are you okay? I’m sorry, I thought...”

 

You kiss him.

 

Fuck, what have you become. You’re kissing him, and you’re moaning, or maybe he is, and does it really matter, his lips are touching your lips, are touching your skin, and you know you can never go back, but why would you ever wanna go back.

 

Maybe tonight you’ll be able to sleep.  


End file.
